Room For A Penitent Sinner?

What Ho Proles!

Oh, don’t even think to question me! I’ve had quite enough of that from My Man. I know I’ve been silent for too long but we men of intellect are prone to ‘adventures’ of the spirit as much as we are prone to those of the body. My spirit has travelled far this last week, searching for the solution to an seemingly impossible problem. How do I finish my memoirs?

The whole thing has become a matter of telling myself ‘I can, I must, and I will’ but every time I sit down to scribe a few more pages, my mind reels from the task, screaming ‘I can’t, I shan’t, and I ruddy well won’t!’

My problem, of course, was created right at the beginning by putting these adventures straight to market in the form of this blog. There’s no chance to revise one’s actions and as the possibilities narrow, the mind labours through some desperate straights. Has there ever been a man of letters so foolish to show the world his first draft? Well there is Jeffrey Archer but let’s not speak of that oddity in the world of publishing…

In my absence, I’m delighted to have received some warm words of encouragement from you, Momentary and Eliza. And I’m deeply touched that Mr. Nottlesby has visited; a man of infinitely more skill in the business of transcribing his reality. I’d warmly recommend you go and loiter on his estate for a while. He’s a friendlier sort than I but I’d say do remember to come back since there’s a vow I want you all to hear me make.

The vow runs:

I shall write daily.
I will post as regularly.
I will get through to the end.
Murgatroids win through.

My Man is loitering in the corner of the room. Oh, I can see the way he’s chewing on the curtains to stop himself from laughing. He knows this is an idle promise. What he’s failed to take into account is that this vow is made by one of a noble line who never make promises they don’t intend to keep.

I’m now returning to the manuscript which has gone untouched for too long.

Until tomorrow…

Your servant,